


pick a place to rest your head

by WashiEaglewings



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: KH3 missing moment, M/M, Zine: Cross the Line - A Soriku Fanzine (Kingdom Hearts), good ol' fashioned sick fic, they're SOFT and TENDIE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashiEaglewings/pseuds/WashiEaglewings
Summary: Sickness is the only thing keeping Riku away from journeying with Sora to the Land of Departure. A KH3 missing moment featuring Two Good Boys
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80
Collections: Cross the Line: a soriku zine





	pick a place to rest your head

“Sora—”

“You heard Master Yen Sid.”

“If I just—”

“Would lie down and get some sleep, things would be okay?” Sora teases from his bed in their temporary room, tying his shoes into firm knots. “Riku, can you even stand up straight?”

They both know the answer because Riku had _tried_ , just thirty minutes ago; the room’s still spinning from that attempt. One simple sickness has done more to incapacitate him than two weeks in the Realm of Darkness--wounds could be healed with a simple Curaga, but whatever bug’s in his system insists on riding out for at least the night. Even with the lights on Sora seems fuzzy at the edges, the room a little too warm.

“We should be back by the morning. Earlier, if Donald gets to drive.” Sora shrugs into his jacket and stands, walking over to Riku huddled in a mass of blankets. “Got your Elixirs? And your soup?”

Riku looks wordlessly to the stash on his little bedside table. “Yeah, but--”

Sora chuckles. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be back soon. Promise.”

Riku only nods, watching Sora walk out the door and then listening for the roar of the Gummi Ship engines coming to life. He has a perfect view to watch Sora go: the stars are winking awake in the purpling twilight sky, and burn all the brighter when the portal opens and swallows them whole. 

He should be glad for the break: with Lea and Kairi set to arrive in the next few days, retrieving Ventus is one of the last steps to assemble all seven Guardians of Light. He and Mickey had been researching and journeying without stopping for any sort of rest; maybe this was his body’s way of telling him to cool his jets, for once.

But sleep doesn’t come for him. The closest he gets is a half-consciousness, tossing and turning and sweating. There are parts of him that still think he’s in the Realm of Darkness, alone--the chill in the air, the heavy weight on his chest, the sweat gathering in his palms. Then he’ll look out to the starry skies over the Mysterious Tower and sigh, and drink a bit of an Elixir, and try again. 

On his third attempt, when he thinks that maybe he’s starting to get somewhere, the door squeaks. The only thing that keeps Braveheart at bay is Sora’s familiar silhouette against the white walls of their temporary room, and Sora’s muttered groans as he slips out of his shoes and socks. “What time is it?” he asks, wincing automatically at the rasp in his voice.

“Late,” Sora says, falling into his bed with a long sigh. “Ven’s making sure Aqua’s okay.”

“Is she sick too?” When Sora doesn’t answer, Riku groans into a sit. “Sora?”

“Things... happened,” he says, almost nonchalant.

“Things like _what._ ”

“Nothing that the four of us couldn’t handle.” The light catches on a too-gummy grin, one Riku recognizes: it’s the one Sora always flashes when he’s trying to convince himself of something. “Hey, you’re looking better. Did the soup help?”

It’s still half-full in his thermos. “Didn’t really feel hungry.”

“Scoot.” Sora reaches over the bedside table and grabs it, twisting the cap off with a flick of his wrist. “Drink.”

Riku doesn’t even have it in him to protest right now; he shuffles to the side of the bed, against the cool wall that leeches the warmth from his skin, and takes the soup with a shaking hand. The broth has cooled a bit after a few hours of sitting out, but the taste is familiar. “Your mom’s recipe?”

“Yeah. I met a friend in Twilight Town who kind of helped me rediscover it. He’s nice, you’d like him.”

Sora makes him drink every last drop over the course of half an hour, peppering him with stories about his latest adventures: the worlds he’s seen, the people he’s met. He tells Riku about the great golden walls and stained glass windows that might be taller than any of the trees on their play island, of the mountains held to the castle by chains, of the three great chairs in the center of that room. He tells him of Vanitas, of a clash between him and Aqua—of Ventus—

“I don’t understand,” Riku says, brow furrowed. “He was in your _heart?_ ”

“I guess! They think that’s how I was able to get the Keyblade,” Sora says, looking down at his hands. “No one really knows how it happened, just… it kind of just did. You know?”

Funny how always seem to _just happen_ around Sora. Riku nods, rubbing his temple. “They’re okay though?”

“Yeah! Just, you know, tired,” Sora says. “Even Ven.”

“And _you’re_ okay?”

It’s easy to forget that Sora’s saved the worlds twice—somehow he always holds his shoulders up against the fatigues that come with those feats. But Sora leans his head against the wall and sighs, and it’s like he deflates a little. “I’m… tired, too.”

“Then sleep.”

“ _You’re_ the one who needs to sleep. No offense, but I don’t think you could stand up against a Shadow right now.”

“Give me a little credit. Soldier, at least.”

Sora shoves him playfully, chuckling. Riku bats his foot lightly against his head in retaliation. It’s all the energy he has to do; the spikes in Sora’s hair are growing hazier with every blink. Riku switches positions, his head sinking into the pillows and his legs hanging awkwardly off the mattress. “But you should get some. Sleep, I mean. Now that…” A yawn interrupts him. “Now that Master Aqua and Ven are back, Mickey will probably want Kairi and Lea back here soon.”

Sora nods. “And once everyone’s feeling better… that’ll be it, huh?”

“That’ll be it.” Riku sighs. “How’re you feeling about it?”

“We beat ‘em once before, right? We can do it again. Especially that we’re all together.”

Sora has his optimism, and Riku has his doubts. Not unfounded, he knows, and practical. The biggest fight of their lives will come any day now, as soon as he and Aqua feel well enough to depart. And they could win and everything will be fine, they’ll have stories to tell and new scars to show off, and—

Well. Everything could go disastrously wrong. He could break his wrist again. Lose himself to darkness. Lose something far more precious than himself.

Instead he says, “Yeah,” and closes his eyes. “You going to sleep?”

“Too awake.” Sora pulls out his Gummiphone and shows it to him. “I’ve been collecting a bunch of games on the road--good for when Donald demands to drive the Gummi Ship, you know? There’s one I’m really good at now, where you have to fly an airplane collecting mail.”

Riku pushes himself up to glance over Sora’s shoulder as the tinny music rings in their room. “Huh. Kind of looks like you and Mickey.”

“Kind of does, huh? Watch, I have a good feeling about this round…”

He isn’t sure when he falls asleep—when the clear black-and-white sprites turn into blobs, probably, and Sora’s started humming the music under his breath. He hasn’t had a deep sleep since opening the door in Destiny Islands and has satisfied himself with knowing he’ll probably never get it again. 

But the fourth time’s the charm, apparently. All he knows is that he jolts awake to something—a particularly forceful gust of wind, maybe, or the new dryness in his mouth, or the new weight on his left side—

And looks down to see Sora on his shoulder.

The phone’s long gone silent in his limp hands, no longer chippy and bright. He’s never known Sora to snore, or maybe they had always slept in separate beds as kids and he’d never heard these kitten breaths. Riku’s sudden gasp brings Sora to stirring but not waking, and with a soft huff he inches closer, cheek pressed firmly against Riku’s sleep shirt.

He has to be dreaming, is the thing. This kind of stuff only happens in his head, the details disappearing like smoke upon waking. It’s the soup, it’s the fear of losing the ones most precious to him, it’s the fever that hasn’t quite broken.

Or. The weight against him could be warm and solid, Sora’s soft exhales could brush against his forearm—no longer bruised, the least important thing—and the arm pinned against Sora’s back and the wall could be going numb.

He could really, _really_ have to pee.

Sora’s heavy when he’s unconscious, so Riku can’t pull his arm free; even if he could, he’s the only thing keeping Sora upright. He sighs. “Sora,” he whispers. “I have to get up.”

“Sleeping,” he mutters.

He chuckles, very aware of his heart drumming out of his skin. “Up, please.”

Sora’s eyes flutter open and he looks up. There’s a perfect, beautiful moment where his eyes glaze over as he comes to awareness; then he snaps up and shuffles out of the bed. “Must’ve fallen asleep, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Riku says, feeling his own face go hot. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Ye… yeah,” Sora says.

He reassesses his body as he makes his way to the bathroom: his vision isn’t blurry anymore; his limbs ache but when _haven’t_ they ached, he thinks, remembering recoveries from particularly brutal fights; his mouth’s dry but that could… well, that could be from Sora sleeping in his bed. The splash of cool water on his face after he finishes feels like heaven, and he feels more like himself. Rest and food. No wonder Sora never used to get sick as a kid.

He moves in the dark hallways trying not to make a sound, figuring it’s close to dawn. When he opens the door back to his bedroom, he finds Sora on Riku’s bed, back turned to him. “Sora?” he calls quietly, to no answer.

Swallowing the new lump in his throat, he looks out the window as the first few rays of sunlight break across the horizon line. Mickey will probably come to get them in a few hours. Kairi and Lea might be here before he even wakes up. He could probably head down and get breakfast now.

“Are you… feeling better?" Sora asks.

Riku looks down. Sora still isn’t looking at him. “Yeah. Probably will need to take it easy the next day, but I think I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Sora says. “Sorry.”

Riku pauses. “About what?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. So.”

“That was… You were tired.” He rubs his forehead--little clammy, but that could be from the splash of water. The pressure feels nice. “There’s no need to apologize, okay?”

He hears Sora grunt in confirmation, and that’s enough for the moment. Sora’s cleared all the half-empty bottles of Elixir from the bedside table, leaving behind the Riku pulls the covers back up, dropping his head into the pillows. His bed’s still warm from the two of them sleeping side by side. He shifts once. Shifts twice. Sora’s shifting too, if the groan of his bed is anything to go by. Riku sighs and closes his eyes. 

“It’s just that,” Sora starts to say, and stops.

Confessions were made for the sort of darkness that’s settled in their bedroom. “Sora?”

“If I did something I shouldn’t have—”

“You didn’t—”

“It’s nice being the one to take care of you. Is all.” He doesn’t need to see Sora’s eyes to feel them on him, intense and ancient. “You… usually don’t let me do that.”

Because somewhere down the line Riku had named himself the Protector--wasn’t the Sigil woven into his skin proof enough of that?--and if he needed protecting that meant he had _failed._ He’s failed enough for a few lifetimes now: if he hadn’t listened to Maleficent, if he hadn’t fallen to Ansem, if he hadn’t lost against Roxas, if he had saved Sora before he’d fallen too deeply into dreams… if, if, _if._

“You take care of me plenty. You never stopped fighting for me.”

“That’s…” Riku furrows his brow. Sora clears his throat. “It’s different.”

“You wouldn’t take care of Kairi when she was sick?” He regrets the question as soon as it’s out. He could kick himself for asking it.

“Of course I would, she’s my friend. I took care of Donald when he had a bad case of the flu on our second adventure, which was, you know, an _adventure._ ”

“I bet.”

“I don’t know, it’s… I like taking care of you, is all. And it feels nice when you let me do it.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me go with you?”

“Other than the fact you couldn’t get out of bed without falling on your face when I left… yeah.”

Riku closes his eyes. “Sora?”

“Yeah?”

“You have another Elixir handy?”

“Uh… yeah, hang on.”

The flask’s in Sora’s hand when he comes to stand beside the bed. Riku’s already shifted over and opened the blankets for him. “Bed’s big enough for both of us,” Riku says, staring right at him.

Sora nods, setting the Elixir on Riku’s lap. He’s still careful to leave an inch or two of space between them, and that’s fine for now. “You’re _sure_ —”

“Everything’s fine.” He yawns, meeting Sora’s eyes as he downs half the Elixir in a few gulps. “And if you want to leave, you know, that’s… fine, too.”

“Need to make sure you don’t roll off the bed,” Sora half-teases, nudging Riku’s heel with his toes. “But… okay.”

He watches as Sora finally lets his head sink into the pillow, as his eyes flutter closed. The kitten snores return after a few moments, and Riku sighs, finishing the Elixir to the sound of it. He reaches over Sora to put the empty bottle on the bedside table, not quite withdrawing his arm when he settles back onto the mattress.

Sora says nothing but snuggles closer to him, and there’s no mistaking the heat that floods through Riku for any sort of sickness but one.

It’s the best sleep he has in years. It’s the best sleep he’ll have for years after.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [on Twitter](http://twitter.com/awakingdormancy)! And for more work from this zine, please check out the [main zine Twitter](https://twitter.com/crosstlinezine)!


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